New Yorkers are used to being able to order Chinese food delivered at almost any hour of the day.

But more adventuresome diners have long headed to Flushing, Queens, home to thousands of Chinese immigrants, for truly authentic dishes.

One small restaurant, Nan Xiang Xiao Long Bao was a destination for dumpling lovers. They would wait in line to nab its Shanghai-style xiao long bao, better known as soup dumplings.

These are plump juicy packets, filled with pork or a mixture of pork and crab, plus a gelatin that melts when the dumplings are steamed.

But the lines are now gone, and Nan Xiang is no more.

Last week, New Yorkers and other food lovers were shocked to hear that the restaurant, a few blocks from Flushing's Main Street, had shut up shop, even though business seemed to be as good as ever.

The news surfaced on the Facebook page of the Greater Flushing Chamber of Commerce.

Last week, it posted a photo of the restaurant's distinctive red and white sign, saying that the owner, Tai Ma, "tearfully told us the restaurant is now closed for good."

John Choe, of the Flushing Chamber, told Patch, a local news page, that rising rents were partly to blame, as was the labor shortage that is plaguing the restaurant industry.

"It's one of the most popular restaurants in Flushing, and when I heard he closed it, I was shocked," Choe told Patch. "If this happened to one of the most popular restaurants in Flushing, what does it mean for the rest of the businesses in Flushing?"

Nan Xiang was our first stop on a late Sunday morning. We walked in and immediately spotted the booth where staff members were making and steaming dumplings.

We nabbed seats and immediately placed our dumpling order — a basket of vegetable dumplings and another of soup dumplings. We planned to pace ourselves, since we had other dining spots to visit.

"Is that all you want?" our waitress asked. "For now," I said.

We dove into the vegetable dumplings first. They were fat, tear dropped packets, with thin skins and generous fillings, six dumplings for $5.95.

Then came the soup dumplings, round and fat, their tops a twisted spiral. The soup was rich, and so was the pork and crab filling.

Conversation wasn't necessary, we just ate. It was easy to see why soup dumplings are considered a good luck dish to be eaten during Chinese New Year's celebrations. Who wouldn't want to start a year with something so delicious?

Nan Xiang's soup dumplings were a little more expensive than the veggie variety, at six for $6.95. We decided to splurge and get a second set. At about $20, we had a dining experience that I won't forget.

Earlier this year, I planned to go back to Nan Xiang, but it was raining, which dissuaded me from taking the No. 7 train out to Flushing. I simply ventured down to Manhattan's Chinatown instead.

There are lots of places to get soup dumplings in the city, and no doubt someone will step forward and try to claim Nan Xiang's place.

But the loss is yet another reminder that New York is losing some of its most beloved small businesses.

Last spring, I wrote about Glaser's Bake Shop, the Upper East Side bakery best known for its black and white cookie.

It closed in July, 2018, after 116 years in business. Herb Glaser, whose grandfather founded the bakery, said he and his brother decided it was time to sell the building and let the business go.

New York is like that, as Meg Ryan's character pointed out in You've Got Mail, a peon to the city's small businesses from the late director Nora Ephron.

"People are always telling you that change is a good thing. But all they're really saying is that something you didn't want to happen at all... has happened," Ryan's character wrote in an email to the character played by Tom Hanks.

"I own a store, did I ever tell you that? It's a lovely store, and in a week it will be something really depressing, like a Baby Gap.

Soon, it'll just be a memory. In fact, someone, some foolish person, will probably think it's a tribute to this city, the way it keeps changing on you, the way you can never count on it, or something."

The moral of You've Got Mail, and Glaser's and Nan Xiang is this: If there's a place in New York where you want to shop or eat, go.

Otherwise, it might not be there the next time you think about it.

All I have to remember Nan Xiang now are some photos of its menu, and two kinds of dumplings, and the men working in the steamy kitchen.